


girl for tonight

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Drugs, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 11:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: After waking up as a girl, the logical thing to do is have his male friend take him out on a date.





	girl for tonight

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (drugs/aphrodisiacs).

Ordinarily Fujigaya wouldn’t just throw back a fruity concoction Kawai had blended in his kitchen, especially one whose introduction had included the words “Hasshi-manager’s chemistry set,” but it was really fucking tasty. Besides, Kawai’s his best friend—he talks a big game, but he’d never intentionally do anything to hurt anyone, so Fujigaya figured the worst thing that could happen is that he’d be knocked on his ass with a nasty hangover in the morning. 

His head certainly feels weird when he wakes up, but it’s not from the alcohol. His skin tingles a little, like he’d slept in a bed of crawling fingers instead of his usual silk sheets, which he’s already rolling around in as he achieves a sliver of consciousness. It’s honestly the most turned on he’s been in awhile, a completely different version of morning wood than he’s used to.

Both eyes fly open as he realizes that the reason for the difference is that there’s no wood at all. He’s not entirely awake yet, but there’s a special connection between a man and his dick and Fujigaya already knows what’s missing before he even reaches down.

“Oh,” he says out loud, a brand new feeling spreading out through his body as he rubs at the place where his penis used to be. His legs spread on their own, his body rolling over onto his back instead of clutching his covers like they were another person, and that’s when he notices the two bumps on his chest that are definitely not a result of his extra bench presses.

He’s a _girl_. It’s such a surreal realization that he’s staring at himself in the mirror next to his bed before his eyes are fully focused, taking in the softer facial features and more curvaceous body that reflects back at him. In all honesty, he doesn’t look that different, aside from the obvious parts. He’s incredibly hot, actually, to the point where his mind can trick him into thinking he’s watching a girl peer at him curiously, her hand pushed between her legs like she can’t keep it away.

A gasp falls from his lips as he dips his hand into his boxers and finds himself already wet, the sound a higher pitch than he’s used to hearing in his head. His new body tells him where to go and no wonder girls like this so much; he’s barely flicked the smooth bundle of nerves before he’s choking on a moan, arching into his own touch and moving faster.

It takes much more effort than just jerking off, but the sensations are so _different_ and the need is so _strong_ that he doesn’t stop; he _can’t_ stop, even when it’s obvious that he can’t go fast enough. It’s actually the most frustrating feeling in the world, and he whines openly as he rolls around in his sheets like that’s going to get him off.

“Taisuke, honey, are you okay?” his mother calls from outside his bedroom door. “You sound sick…”

Panic attacks Fujigaya from all angles and he throws his covers over his head just in time for the door to open. “I’m fine,” he says, trying to make his voice sound deeper.

There’s a pause, then footsteps stomp towards his bed and a very unmasculine shriek sounds from his lungs as fingers yank on his hair. “Young man, if you have disrespected our home by sneaking in some girl, I’m going to—”

She stops abruptly and Fujigaya squeezes his eyes shut as daylight hits his face, but thankfully the grip on his hair loosens. “It’s Kawai’s fault,” he says quickly, cringing at how high his voice is. “He made a thing and I drank it and woke up like this. I’m sorry.”

Out of all of the reactions he would expect from a mother who just found out her oldest son is now her only daughter, bursting out into laughter is not one of them. “Oh, Taisuke, I thought you were hiding a girl in here.”

Fujigaya frowns as he rubs his scalp. “Give me some credit, please. I’m not Ryosuke, damn.”

His expression turns curious as he threads his fingers through his hair longer than he should be able to, longer than he’s ever done. In fact, he can pull it in front of his face, his mouth falling open at how long and curly it is, albeit a bit tangled.

“Up,” Fuji-mama directs, and Fujigaya instantly sits up and hugs his knees to ignore the continuous demands of his skin that he doesn’t want to think about with his mother in the room. “Head down.”

She takes the hairbrush on his nightstand and starts to brush his hair, gentle enough to work out the tangles without hurting, and Fujigaya smiles. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I always wanted a daughter,” she says quietly, and Fujigaya says nothing. “It probably feels strange for you, doesn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement,” he replies, and she laughs. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Come on, Tai-chan, let’s go shopping.” She pats the top of his head and stands up. “Even if you’re only a woman for a day, you should make the best of it.”

Even though being dragged through clothing stores and fitted for bras with his mother is embarrassing, Fujigaya’s grateful that he has her to help him out. Regardless of what parts he has, he wants to look good, and now that he’s a female there are loads of options available to him. He limits it down to three outfits, including a slinky club dress at which his mother raises her eyebrows but says nothing, and secretly hopes he has enough time to wear them all.

When they return home, his brothers don’t even bat an eyelash at his new body, taking to calling him “neechan” way too easily, but Fujigaya doesn’t really care. Thankfully there isn’t any group work today, since Kitayama, Nikaido, and Miyata are busy with their respective dramas and stage play, and Fujigaya fully intends on making the most out of his time like this.

Yokoo stares at him for a good twenty seconds before Fujigaya shoves past him to let himself into the apartment. “Honestly, you’re going to get us Friday’d,” he mutters, dropping his purse onto the couch.

“Am I dreaming?” Yokoo asks, and Fujigaya tries not to laugh at his face.

“Do you often dream about me as a girl, Wataru?” Fujigaya giggles, surprised at how natural it sounds.

“I…” Yokoo trails off as Fujigaya flops onto his couch, skirt fluttering around his thighs. “How did this happen?”

“Kawai,” Fujigaya answers simply, and Yokoo just nods like that’s all he needs to hear. “It’s awesome, right? My mom brushed my hair and took me shopping and you should take me out on a date because it’s okay like this.”

Yokoo blinks. “Okay.”

His confused expression relaxes into a smile as Fujigaya grins at him. “Good, now go look good for me. This may be the only time we can do this!”

Fujigaya entertains himself with the ruffles on his shirt while Yokoo changes, his mind wandering to his friend and what it will be like going out with him. They’ve often lamented the fact that they were both boys and couldn’t do things like that, but now it’s totally okay for them to indulge. Fujigaya’s already decided where he wants to eat and what he wants to do when Yokoo walks out in a cloud of steam from his shower, dressed casually with his hair hanging down on both sides, and it takes Fujigaya’s breath away.

“I’ll take that as a sign that I did well,” Yokoo says, his tone indecipherable as he pockets his wallet and keys. “Ready to go?”

Nodding, Fujigaya grabs his purse and meets Yokoo at the door. He’s wearing a brand of cologne Fujigaya hasn’t smelled on him before, but it’s incredibly enticing and Fujigaya has to stop himself from pressing his nose into Yokoo’s neck.

“You okay?” Yokoo asks, looking down at him much further than usual, his eyes concerned and his voice deep.

“Yeah,” Fujigaya replies with a smile. “My hormones have just been going crazy since I woke up this morning.”

“Is that so,” Yokoo says noncommittally as they both step into their shoes, then sticks out his elbow once they’re outside his door.

Fujigaya stares at him for a second before looping his arm around it, allowing Yokoo to lead him out into the day where they can be seen together like this. He notices Yokoo strutting a little, like he’s proud to be seen with this woman on his arm, and Fujigaya hides a smirk.

They eat an early dinner at Fujigaya’s favorite Italian restaurant and see a movie that neither one of them cares about, Yokoo sliding his arm around Fujigaya’s shoulders before the previews are even over. Fujigaya knows what to expect from previous Busaiku endeavors, of course, but it’s much different when it’s being done to _him_. He likes how it feels to have Yokoo’s arm around him, tugging him close and feeling the depth of Yokoo’s voice when he speaks.

Next on the agenda is clubbing, though Yokoo’s reaction to Fujigaya’s choice of attire is much more disapproving than his mother’s. “Are you actually wearing that out in public?”

“What?” Fujigaya asks, pulling up the top of the strapless dress that’s barely held up by his cleavage. “I’ve seen you with girls wearing much less than this. My belly’s not even showing!”

“Yeah, but…” Yokoo’s eyes drop to the part in question, properly covered by the same material that continues halfway down his thighs, almost to his knees for fuck’s sake. “You’re not just some girl I’m taking to the club, you know.”

“Aw, you’re worried about me,” Fujigaya teases, pouting at the way Yokoo continues to glare at him. “You know, other guys won’t even get near me if you dance with me the whole time.”

“They’ll still look at you,” Yokoo grumbles. “And think about doing things to you.”

“So what?” Fujigaya shrugs. “They can look all they want, but they don’t get to touch.”

Yokoo licks his lips like the question of whether he’s allowed to touch is on the tip of his tongue, but he says nothing as they head to the club, Fujigaya a little wobbly on his stilettos. Yokoo looks even better than before, Fujigaya notes, all dark clothes and hard angles, and Fujigaya can’t wait to dance up against him. It’s unsurprisingly easy for him to adapt to dancing like a girl, moving his body before they’re even in the door, which poses a problem when Fujigaya’s ID clearly states that he’s a man.

“Um, I can explain,” Fujigaya starts, looking sheepish as the bouncer eyes his chest.

“It’s the only way we can be together in public,” Yokoo hisses, looking more lethal than Fujigaya’s ever seen him. “You think I can just bring my boyfriend to a club like this and not get both of our asses kicked? Overlook it, dude.”

The bouncer stares at Yokoo for a while, then nods. “All right, man, your secret is safe with me.” He hands Fujigaya back his ID, eyes still lingering on his chest. “For what it’s worth, you are _very_ convincing.”

“Thank you,” Fujigaya says, flashing a grin before Yokoo drags him away so hard that he nearly falls over. “What the hell—”

“What do you want to drink?” Yokoo growls, not stopping until they get to the bar, which Fujigaya grabs onto to regain his balance. “Actually, I’m not sure you should have alcohol in your state.”

Fujigaya huffs as he pulls his arm out of Yokoo’s clutches. “You’re starting to piss me off. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is how every man in this club wants to fuck you,” Yokoo snaps, pausing in his wrath to order two vodka cranberries. “Even some of the women are eyeing you with more than jealousy.”

“Wataru, my entire career is based off of people wanting to fuck me,” Fujigaya tells him, pushing at an ornery curl that won’t stay behind his ear. “Why is it any different now?”

“Because tonight you’re mine.”

Fujigaya stares at him speechless as the bartender returns with their drinks, which Yokoo coolly whips out his card to pay for before throwing his glass back in one gulp. He shakes his head when asked if he wants to run a tab, his eyes never leaving Fujigaya’s, and Fujigaya wades through the mess in his mind before swallowing hard.

“Then you should dance with me and show them they don’t stand a chance,” he says evenly, tipping his own glass back and getting in a few good swigs before Yokoo yanks it out of his hand and slams it on the counter. Then he’s being pulled again, this time onto the dance floor, but it’s Fujigaya who wraps his arms around Yokoo’s neck and presses close, rolling their bodies together.

“Taisuke,” Yokoo breathes, hands firm at Fujigaya’s waist like he’s trapping them there in case they decide to wander. “I don’t know if—”

“Shh,” Fujigaya whispers, brushing his glossy lips along Yokoo’s jaw now that he’s tall enough to reach it. “Just let it happen.”

Yokoo lets out a groan that sounds almost painful, though his hands drop to Fujigaya’s hips and he moves in time to the music. Honestly, Fujigaya thinks, Yokoo acts like he’s the one who is out of his element here. If anyone was going to flip out about this, it would be Fujigaya. But if he’s learned one thing about girls since becoming one, it’s that they can’t control their feelings. They want what they want, regardless of logic or decorum or even possibility.

And right now, Fujigaya’s female body wants Yokoo. It gets worse with each brush of their hips together, with each whiff of Yokoo’s cologne and each squeeze of Yokoo’s hands around him. Everyone else in the club seems to fade away but the two of them, the bass thundering all around them as they come together in an intimate dance that will never grace any stage.

“I wanna kiss you,” Yokoo says in a rush of air, and Fujigaya actually thinks he imagines it until he nods and those lips are on his, his fingers toying with Yokoo’s hair as Yokoo pulls them even closer together. The initial spark of their kiss surges through Fujigaya’s body, settling between his legs and the throb he feels is nothing compared to this morning.

It gets too hot too fast, the temperature as well as the passion building between them, the kiss quickly deepening when Fujigaya tilts his head and flicks his tongue teasingly. He should have known that Yokoo would be a fierce kisser, making him forget about everything and everyone else except the two of them, the taste of Yokoo’s mouth and the slow rub of their bodies together to the beat of one song that mixes into another into another.

“Okay, break it up, you two,” someone pierces through the haze of Fujigaya’s mind, forcefully shoving him away from Yokoo, and Fujigaya’s vision focuses on the same bouncer from the door. “I can respect your life choices, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Fujigaya can almost see the steam start to rise with Yokoo’s anger, but now he’s the one leading Yokoo away. “It’s fine, let’s just go.”

To his credit, Yokoo straightens up and walks them both right out of the club, guiding Fujigaya through the throngs of people by the small of his back. “We weren’t even doing anything that inappropriate,” he mutters once they get outside.

“Maybe it looked worse,” Fujigaya says helpfully, his stride quickening once he sees Yokoo’s car. “Truth is, I was ready to leave anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” Yokoo asks, his breath tickling Fujigaya’s ear as he leans past him to unlock the passenger door. “Why is that?”

Fujigaya answers him by grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in with him, which isn’t nearly as suave as he intends and he’s pretty sure he bangs Yokoo’s head against the dome light as he puts the seat back and down.

“Taisuke, what are you—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Fujigaya demands, looping his arms around Yokoo’s neck again to bring him down, and Yokoo’s still halfway hanging out of the car when their lips touch, that rush of need returning from before they were interrupted.

Except that Yokoo only indulges him for a few seconds before abruptly tearing his mouth away, breath ragged as he untwists his body. “I’m not doing this here.”

“Wataru,” Fujigaya whines, reaching for Yokoo’s shoulders as he moves to stand up. “I want you.”

“I want you, too,” Yokoo says, looking a bit conflicted about it.

“Then why—”

“You deserve better than this,” Yokoo cuts him off, pressing a chaste kiss to Fujigaya’s cheek as he leans back down just to put the seat back up. The seatbelt is next, and Fujigaya’s skin burns even more at being cared for like this, his words of protest dying in his throat as Yokoo closes his door and strolls around to the other side of the car to get in himself.

The ride back is silent, their destination already understood, though at this point Fujigaya would have smacked Yokoo in the head with his stiletto if he’d tried to take Fujigaya back to his parents’ house after all this. He’d thought he was impatient as a man; that’s nothing compared to how it feels as a woman, what feels like every nerve singeing to be touched, held, kissed, moved against, climbed on top of…

“I’m going to drive off the road if you keep doing that,” Yokoo says, and Fujigaya belatedly realizes he’s sweeping his fingers across his collarbone, desperate for any kind of physical contact.

“I wouldn’t have to touch myself if you’d do it already,” he snaps back, taking pleasure with the way Yokoo’s breath hitches, both hands now on the steering wheel. If Fujigaya was more confident, he’d lean over and really give Yokoo a reason to drive off the road, but he suddenly feels insecure like this is his first time all over again.

It may as well be, he realizes, since he’s never done it as a girl before. His gaze drops to Yokoo’s crotch, where he’s pretty sure that the bulge isn’t just the way his pants bunch and Fujigaya gulps, a little apprehensive about taking something like that inside him. He’d never even thought about it as a man, but now it’s the natural order of things.

“Please take care of me,” he whispers when they finally get in the door and Yokoo’s staring at him like he’d accused all of the patrons at the club of doing before.

“You look terrified,” Yokoo says, taking careful steps closer after kicking off his shoes, and Fujigaya has to fight to remain where he is.

“I’m a little scared,” he admits as he folds his arms in front of him subconsciously.

“We don’t have to,” Yokoo tells him, shaking his head as he lifts a hand to cup Fujigaya’s face. “I’m fine with whatever you want.”

“I want to,” Fujigaya says, the throbbing deep inside him emphasizing his words. “I really want to, but I don’t want it to hurt.”

“I do know what I’m doing, you know,” Yokoo tells him with a smirk. “And contrary to popular belief, I can go slowly.”

Fujigaya nods, biting his lip as Yokoo comes closer. “Just…do it.”

The best thing about Yokoo Wataru is that he doesn’t waste time or mince words. Once he has the go-ahead, he pulls Fujigaya close to him and presses their mouths together, kissing him more sensually without the upbeat music to decide the pace. Fujigaya likes it so, so much better, his arousal quickly returning to where it had been in the club, only this time there’s no nosy bouncers to stop them.

He pulls Yokoo even closer and that’s definitely an erection digging into his stomach, making Fujigaya rock against him even harder to feel more. Yokoo groans low in his throat and Fujigaya tugs at his shirt, wanting it off, whining impatiently when Yokoo relocates them across the room. But then Yokoo’s laying him down onto a soft surface and Fujigaya has never wanted to feel anything as much as Yokoo’s weight on top of him right now, gently moving against him as he reaches back to pull his shirt over his head and place it next to them.

Fujigaya’s legs spread just enough for Yokoo to fit between them, the first grind of him hard against Fujigaya’s new parts has Fujigaya tearing his mouth away with a sharp moan. All of that frustration from this morning comes rushing back, the urge to come combined with that throbbing to have something inside him, and all he can do is squirm as Yokoo kisses his way down Fujigaya’s jaw and throat, his hands making their way around to Fujigaya’s back to unzip the dress.

It’s not cold at all, but the air has Fujigaya’s nipples hardening even more upon exposure. Yokoo’s blatantly avoiding them, which has Fujigaya gasping since those fingers are touching him everywhere _else_ , softly kneading the flesh of his breasts and tracing his collarbone. Just when Fujigaya’s about to tell him to get on with it already, Yokoo closes his mouth around a nipple and Fujigaya arches instead, crying out at the way Yokoo’s tongue flicks it so fast that he feels it elsewhere.

“Wataru,” he gasps, his own hands wandering down Yokoo’s bare back and around his waist. He’s so thin that Fujigaya can feel all of his ribs, not that Fujigaya’s much better himself, though he rather likes the way Yokoo’s abdomen muscles shudder when Fujigaya reaches the fly of his pants.

“Hmm?” Yokoo replies, the sound stimulating Fujigaya’s nipple even more.

“More.”

Yokoo makes that low noise again, one of his hands sliding down Fujigaya’s leg to continue back up the inside of his thigh. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Fujigaya gets out, a little ashamed at the way his legs spread enough for his dress to hike up his waist. “I tried to do it this morning and I couldn’t.”

“You tried to do what?” Yokoo asks, hips snapping against him like he’s pretty interested in hearing about this.

“Touch myself,” Fujigaya answers, and another groan has his own hips bucking. “But I couldn’t do it fast enough.”

Fingertips breech the lace edge of his panties and he chokes on his air. The touch halts right away, but Fujigaya pulls Yokoo up by his hair and kisses him hard to make it clear that he doesn’t want him to stop. Understood, Yokoo continues under the flimsy material and goes right for the bump that’s been twitching for contact all day.

“Here?” Yokoo hisses between kisses, and Fujigaya nods. “Okay, okay, I got you.”

A fresh rush of heat crashes over Fujigaya as Yokoo’s finger moves more intently, staying right where Fujigaya wants it even when his body jerks from the pressure. It feels so good, building up inside him like a slow burning fire, and the next time Fujigaya falls out of their kiss it’s to toss his head back onto Yokoo’s pillow, his hair going every which way.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” Yokoo says into Fujigaya’s cleavage as he kisses his way down. “I bet you’re this gorgeous turned on as a man, too.”

Fujigaya doesn’t have much time to process that last statement before his panties are being slid off and Yokoo’s looping an arm around one of his legs, spreading them even more. He’s embarrassed for a second, but then Yokoo’s _licking_ him and all he can do is moan. He feels a fingertip gently circling the new hole and his body lurches for it, one hand sinking into Yokoo’s hair for something to grab onto.

Yokoo’s fingers are long, long enough to touch Fujigaya deeper than he ever thought possible, making him thrash around on the bed from the combination of his touches. His tongue moves much faster than Fujigaya’s finger and Fujigaya gets so close so fast, unaccustomed to this kind of intense orgasm that has him feeling like he’s literally going to explode once he comes.

“Wataru, don’t stop, almost there,” he moans out, his breaths so loud in his own head that he can hardly hear anything else as his lower half trembles involuntarily. “Oh my god…”

It all hits him at once, an indescribable rush of feeling that seems like it could go forever, with the exception of his oversensitive clitoris from which he yanks Yokoo away by his hair. His fingers keep going, though, directed by Fujigaya’s body, and he feels even hotter now than before he came as he crushes their mouths together, tasting his female juices on Yokoo’s tongue.

Now Fujigaya can touch Yokoo too, opening his pants and reaching inside to find him hard and leaking. Yokoo’s noises are enticing, tickling Fujigaya’s tongue as they continue to kiss with Yokoo’s long fingers deep inside Fujigaya while Fujigaya curls his small hand around Yokoo’s cock. It’s much bigger than Yokoo’s fingers, anyway, but Fujigaya notices Yokoo gradually stretching him open until he has three moving in and out easily.

“You still want me?” Yokoo whispers into the corner of Fujigaya’s lips, hips snapping into Fujigaya’s grip that tightens at the words. “It’s okay to just do this, too. Feels really good.”

“It would feel even better if you were inside me,” Fujigaya replies as he pushes back against Yokoo’s fingers, making it clear that he’s ready. “Come on, I don’t even think you have to wear a condom. Pretty sure I can’t get pregnant like this.”

“There’s a scandal I don’t want to have,” Yokoo says as he reaches into his pocket for a foil packet. “Anyway, it keeps it from getting too messy.”

“You would be concerned about that,” Fujigaya scoffs as Yokoo bats his hand away and rolls on the condom. “Never mind that I’ve already made a mess of your sheets.”

“It’s courtesy,” Yokoo argues, and Fujigaya decides not to push it since now Yokoo’s fingers are gone and Yokoo positions himself between Fujigaya’s legs, leaning down to press their chests together and kiss Fujigaya’s jaw. “Can I?”

“Yes, god, fuck me already—” Fujigaya starts, but he’s cut off when Yokoo pushes in and all he can do is arch as the itch he’s had all day is finally scratched with Yokoo inside him, filling him. Yokoo pauses for entirely too long, to the point where Fujigaya’s hips are moving on their own to feel more, but then Yokoo’s thrusting properly and Fujigaya’s breath is overcome by moans.

“Taisuke,” Yokoo gasps, burying his face into Fujigaya’s neck as his speed escalates, cock pounding deep inside him as Fujigaya’s body accepts more. “Oh, Taisuke, you feel so good.”

High-pitched, needy sounds fall from Fujigaya’s lips uncontrollably, his nails digging into Yokoo’s shoulders blades as he’s brought closer and closer to an entirely different kind of orgasm. His thighs are trembling, his body jerking from side to side as Yokoo keeps hitting him just right, his low grunts and groans taking Fujigaya even higher.

Then something like an explosion starts from within him, leaving him incapable of nothing but moans as his body tightens around Yokoo’s cock that keeps pushing through it. He’s still catching his breath when another one hits, then another, each one making Yokoo’s voice a little higher. He doesn’t stop, though; if anything, he moves faster and lifts his head to fuse his mouth to Fujigaya’s, kissing him almost as hard as he’s fucking him.

Yokoo shows no signs of finishing any time soon, bringing Fujigaya to several more mind-blowing peaks before he starts to lose his rhythm, hands tight on Fujigaya’s ass to go even deeper. “Are you okay?” he asks breathlessly.

“I think I’m done,” Fujigaya replies, though the next thrust seems to contrast that statement. “Feels good, though.”

“Yeah?” Yokoo cuts his speed in half, clinging onto Fujigaya’s body that continues to push back. “I don’t want you to be too sore, though, especially if you don’t change back right away.”

“I kinda hope I don’t,” Fujigaya wheezes, one hand tangling in Yokoo’s hair that’s already dampened from their efforts. “This is amazing.”

“Mm, I’m glad you think so,” Yokoo whispers, his voice hitching a bit as he thrusts more pointedly. “Taisuke, I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me,” Fujigaya says, and Yokoo lets out a sharp cry as he shudders and falls still. Feeling Yokoo’s cock pulse inside him is the strangest sensation, but Fujigaya feels nothing but pleasant shivers as Yokoo settles on top of him, his heartbeat calming while Fujigaya strokes his hair.

“I hope you never turn back,” Yokoo breathes out, and Fujigaya pretends not to hear him.

One very long bath later, where Yokoo makes Fujigaya’s skin tingle even more just by tracing the curves and contours of his new body with his fingers, they’re snuggled in Yokoo’s bed, Fujigaya fitting neatly in Yokoo’s arms. Yokoo’s threading his fingers through Fujigaya’s long hair and it feels nice, luring him to sleep along with the steady sound of Yokoo’s breathing.

Upon waking, Fujigaya already knows that everything is different—or should he say back to the way it was before. That connection to his dick is back, along with his taller stature that makes him feel too big to be cuddled like this, but that just makes him not want to wake up yet. If he stays asleep, he can enjoy this for a while longer before he has to go back to liking girls.

“Mm, good morning,” Yokoo says behind him, his voice even deeper from nonuse, and Fujigaya tries to suppress his shiver. “How do you feel?”

“I feel okay,” Fujigaya answers, not recognizing his own deep voice after speaking so much in a higher pitch. “I should get up now, huh?”

“You don’t have to.”

Fujigaya thinks about that for a few seconds, long enough for Yokoo to squeeze him. “I don’t?”

“Of course not,” Yokoo replies, a little more awake now judging by his level of indignation. “I don’t care what parts you have. It’s _you_ I’m attracted to. I’ve liked you for years, Taisuke.”

“Oh.” Fujigaya blinks, considers the past twenty-four hours, and recognizes the same feelings coursing through his veins at the confession. “I think I like you, too.”

“Good,” Yokoo says. “Now whenever you stop freaking out about it, I can show you how good it is as a man.”

It takes a couple days and a lot of laughing from Kawai, but eventually Yokoo makes Fujigaya comfortable enough to let him inside, teaching him things he’d never known about his own body and making his one male orgasm worth ten female ones. As they move forward into an actual relationship, Fujigaya’s tempted to snag some more of that magic potion from ABC-Z, but he likes Yokoo’s dick too much and Yokoo seems partial to his as well.

And when the scandal of Yokoo getting kicked out of a club for dirty-dancing with some girl surfaces the next time Yokoo stars in a drama, all they can do is laugh.


End file.
